Adventure Racing: Lessons in Courage

The 2003 - 30 hour North Georgia Adventure Race

The Mole

5:00 AM Sitting on the tailgate of my truck, the thermometer is reading -5 F. A mole scurries under my feet seeking the warmth of the propane heater. Thomas arrives with the maps and instructions and we begin the ritual of deciphering the clues and UTM ordinates. The ink pens we normally use to write on the USGS maps with are frozen and will not write. We use Sharpies instead. 50 minutes later we mount our bikes, wearing all of our race clothing. Thomas reminds us to keep our heads on our shoulders. I add we also need to keep our hearts in our chests. We ride out into the frigid darkness, leaving the mole with the heater and Thomas with the other 84 support crews. I have NEVER ridden in such harsh conditions. The roads are covered in snow and ice and the wind-chill makes it feel like -20 F.

Us

Four months of mental focusing, planning, reserving cabins, testing equipment and physical preparations are united in this ambitious effort. None of us have completed a 24-hour adventure race, though we all have race resumes that hint we can. Our goal is to finish. The objectives are to have a good team experience and stay safe. The strategy is to minimize navigation errors, eat and drink little and often so as to keep kidneys going and hunger at bay. I estimate we will burn 1000 calories per hour, over 22,000 calories for the race. There is no way we can eat enough to keep up with the deficit, so we must rely on our reserves. Team Adventure Carolinas is: Drew Wilson, Tim LaRose and myself. Thomas DeMaria is the one-man support crew.

Checkpoint 1

The map says we turn right out of the Woody Gap School parking lot, go past the lake on our left and turn right at the Ranger Station. The road is icy and we pedal at a controlled pace favoring the snowy portions of the road for traction. We arrive at the right hand turn, pause and take it, but don't recognize the ranger station. We turn around and go back, just to be sure. Making a navigation error this early in the race would be embarrassing. We decide we are on the right course and continue along the road confirming our route by the names of the side roads and the creek names on the maps. Mountain Bike starts in adventure races are notorious for having a brutal climb at the beginning to thin things out a bit and this race is no different. We settle into a steady climbing pace, not breathing the frigid air too deep and warming the muscles slowly. My camel back tube is already frozen solid, I check my Polar water bottles. The nozzles are frozen and I don't want to break a tooth biting it open. I try to unscrew the top, but it's frozen. I jam the bottle in my jacket to warm the top and press on. I intended to drink every 10-15 minutes and eat Power Gels every half hour to maintain hydration and energy. I'm already behind that schedule. The road continues up.

We are mixing in and out of other teams who are stopping to adjust clothing, un-stick frozen derailleurs, hook up tow systems etc… We turn left and begin a descent down a very slippery snow covered gravel road. The 25 lb pack makes me top heavy and I unclip to descend with one foot out of the pedals for stability. A cyclist on another team just in front of me hits an icy patch and goes down, then Drew does the same thing. They slide off the road, but get back up and continue. They have so much clothing on that the falls don't hurt. After about a mile of descending we reach the manned checkpoint, sign in, turn around and ride back up the slippery road we just descended. We are in about 20th place.



The Wonder from Down Under

We continue along the snow covered gravel road, making good progress, traveling with several other teams, until we make the left hand turn onto the un-traveled, un-improved road that goes straight up the side of the next mountain. We dismount and start briskly walking up the road; Tim tries to ride it, but doesn't get very far and dismounts. We stop for Drew to make some clothing adjustments. The side zipper on his pants breaks and he is trying to repair it. Drew is not happy and getting more frustrated by the second. Tim and I look at each other and suggest that he take the pants off and worry about fixing the zipper later. He does and we move on. A little further, the road turns into a trail that soon disappears. Footprints are going in all directions indicating that other teams are confused. We stop, read the map take a compass bearing, and continue in a general direction. After a mile or two of this we find Checkpoint 2 on the trail. We punch the passport and continue only to encounter a woman running up the mountain we are descending. We think this is a little strange and wonder who she could be and why she is alone. Then we encounter a guy doing the same thing. We tell him about what we just saw and he says she is his teammate. We wonder who she is, because there are not that many women who can run like that in these conditions.

No 69

Checkpoint 3 is land marked by a church at the junction of FS 69 and FS 69C. The race instructions were very specific about NOT approaching checkpoint 2 on road 69; we must be on road 69C. Thomas and I made a special note of it by writing NO 69 in big red letters on the map. The next few miles are a navigation test. The roads and trails are overgrown, and the route is not clear. Teams scatter in all directions. I read the map, take a compass bearing and we head down an old logging roadbed that parallels a stream. We pop out on a road that shows on the map. The road is 69C, just where we need to be. The next couple of miles are fairly easy. We see the trout rearing station on the map and arrive at checkpoint 3 on road 69C. The checkpoint is womanned by three volunteers in their 20-30's busy building a fire out of wet wood. I ask: "Are you Girl Scouts?" They all stop, look directly at me and say, in unison "NO!"

10:52 AM We move on towards checkpoint 4.

"Read the map and use the compass."

The rest of the checkpoints all appear to be on roads. The navigation challenge is not as rigorous, but the unrelenting climbing is beginning to take its toll. Drew has a flat rear tire. We stop once to re-fill it with CO2, but it doesn't hold, so we have to stop again and replace the tube. Then I make our first navigation error by passing a landmark for checkpoint 4. Two miles later we arrive at a major gap where the Appalacian trail leads to Springer Mtn Ga and realize what we have done. We humbly turn around and ride back down the road only to find about 10 other teams congregating at the checkpoint. It has been placed 300 yards off the road up a hill. I trot up the hill to get the checkpoint. Several other teams have made the same mistake and a guy asks me how we are supposed to find these things? The answer, of course, is: "read the map and use the compass", but I don't say anything. Drew and Tim rest and refuel. Now I'm ticked because of the error and we set off at a brisk pace attempting to recover the 50 minutes lost. It could have been worse.

We ride more gravel roads, being more careful with navigation. The team with the Wonder Woman passes us. She is riding a Moots Mtn Bike and the guy has on a Salomon jacket. She has an Austrailian/NewZealand Accent. I dub her the "Wonder from Down Under" and we have a brief conversation about the tenacity of the Aussies and New Zealanders.

1:30 PM We arrive at CP5 to find two guys around a fire with plenty of bottled water. We are out of fluids. I drink three bottles and stuff two more in my pack. Drew recognizes one of the race volunteers and he tells us the paddling leg has been canceled because the lake froze and that half of the teams have dropped out of the race already. I'm relieved to know we won't have to paddle, but am not sure what the high attrition rate means. Is it the quality of the field? The conditions? The race? Or all of the above? Does it really matter?

Little-Big-Man

5:23 PM Thomas DeMaria is 5 feet 4 inches tall. He is a giant of a person. The world would be a much better place if there were more Thomas DeMaria's. When we pull into checkpoint 6/Transition area 1 at 5 PM in 17th place Thomas has a full meal, hot liquids, a fire, and our equipment laid out for us. He also befriended a family of 5 that look like LL Bean models and taught them how to support their two-man team. The LL Bean models, in turn, help Thomas by helping us. This is a definite, much appreciated, and totally unexpected high point and is just one of many examples of the terrific spirit and cooperation of the Adventure Racing Community.

It is getting dark quickly and the hiking leg starts with a pontoon ferry ride across the frozen headwaters of Lake Blue Ridge. After changing into dry clothes, Thomas briefs me on the hiking portion and makes the point that we should stay near the ridgelines. The hiking looks to be mostly on established trails and forest service roads. With the expected full moon reflecting off the snow I anticipate good night trekking conditions. We are carrying Petzyl headlamps capable of burning 30 hours continuously and plan to leave them on the whole time.

Journey Into the Darkness

6:33 PM We leave Thomas and the LL Bean Family models and walk off into the darkness. The race director has managed to get one of the local fire and rescue groups to bring a pontoon boat up the frozen lake to ferry the teams across the 100-yard wide lake. The ferrymen have their routine down and give us very specific instructions. We are to stand on the bow of the boat outside the railing so as to weight the front down to better break through the ice. I get in the middle. The boat driver does a three-point turn and we run up on the far side bank. The bowman tells me that I am first off and to wait until the wave surge is over and he will tell me when to jump. I do just as instructed and land safely on the other side. Drew and Tim make it without incident. We walk down the river bank to a trail head that leads up to Wilscot, a place we had just passed on Mtn Bikes. We meet two teams, one is studying their maps and trying to read the terrain. I ask them if they recognize the area from the Mtn Bike section and they say “Oh yeah” and then walk off about 50 yards or so to see what we do. I read the map, see the trail and we start walking. The other team follows, eventually passing us. I wonder how much I helped them out.

The moon is not rising. We can see the light from towns in the distance, but see no stars. I hope that the moonrise is late. We walk the trail, emblazoned with white triangles and end up at the top of a mountain to find Checkpoint 11 at the foot of a fire tower.

8:23 PM We speak briefly to the couple manning the checkpoint and continue down the road leading to the fire tower looking for a trail showing on the map. When we reach the point where the trail starts, an emergency service vehicle drives up and tells us the road we are on takes us to the gap where the trail ends. I confirm the suggestion by taking a compass bearing and we thank the men in the truck and make good time walking the road. The road ends at a trailhead and we start walking a trial that follows the ridgeline. Still no moon; it is getting colder (dropping below 20F) and the wind is starting to blow. I am eating and drinking constantly, stopping regularly. We aren't talking much, just putting one foot in front of the other and moving at a steady pace. We start looking for checkpoint 12 and do not see it where Thomas and I plotted it 14 hours ago. We arrive at a gravel road that is clearly marked on the map and walk down the road following some foot prints in search of the CP. We don't see it and turn around thinking it must be on the trail ahead. We walk ¼ mile up the trail, far enough to read the terrain and decide to re-plot the point. We confirm that the CP is back down the gravel road. Tim takes off for the CP, Drew and I follow, but at a more reserved pace. When we get back to the road, Tim is nowhere in site. Drew and I walk down the road and find the checkpoint, but do not see Tim. We begin calling and flashing our lights and end up announcing the checkpoint location to three other teams we passed earlier. Finally Tim arrives, he blew right by it, we punch the passport and start back up the trail. We quickly pass the three teams back and move on.

12:49 AM We reach Skeenah gap road and cross it, heading straight up a 1000 foot, steep climb. It is snowing; the winds are gusting to 25-30 mph through the trees. The trees are creaking and sound like sheep bleating or a chorus of women whispering. It is very eerie. My eyes start playing tricks on me as shadows from my headlight start to form images. I see a Volkswagen, then a refrigerator, and people who aren't there. Drew makes a comment about the sounds. We stop and catch our breath and assess the situation. Three teams pass us moving quickly in the opposite direction. I ask them what's up? And they say they are going back. Images of the Blair Witch Project come to mind. Drew has been hobbling for the past 3 hours and Tim said he doesn't feel good and has been eating Ibuprofen like candy. We look at the map and see how far we have to go: 12 more miles by foot, then another 16 by Mtn bike. We have been going for 22 hours. At the pace we are moving we will not make the time cutoffs. The options are to continue and risk injury or go back down to Skeenah Gap and have Thomas pick us up. This is not a time for glory.

1:57 AM I consider the situation and announce that I can't go on and offer to let Tim and Drew continue. They assert that we are a team and agree to go back down to Skeenah Gap. We pull out the race radio, put it together, and I announce who, and where we are, and that we are stopping at Skeenah Gap. They acknowledge us, and say that our support crew will meet us at Skeenah Gap. No sooner had we arrived at the Gap and Thomas drives up. We cram into the Blazer and stay around to offer assistance to two other teams who have made the same decision. On the drive back to the cabin, Tim sleeps and Thomas, Drew and I have a mini group therapy session. Thomas tells us how fortunate we are to have gone so far.

Post Race

We get back to the cabin, sleep 3-4 hours, pack up and drive down to the Woody Gap School to drop off the GPS and race radio. Only 8 of the 84 teams completed the full course in the 30-hour time limit. A handful of others trickled in on shortened courses. Remarkably there are no major injuries. An article in the Atlanta Journal Constitution reports that one person was treated for mild hypothermia, and one person complained of chest pains but checked out Okay at a local hospital. The teams who finished within the time limits were professional level teams or Army Rangers based at Camp Merryl near Suches.

We ended up “stopping” in 33rd place, in the top half of the field. We stuck to our strategy and objectives, but didn't meet our goal.

There will be other races and we are stronger.

Remember Team CORE

An Account of the Asheville Mountain Sports Festival

12 Hour Adventure Race

By Richard Ridlehuber, Susan Jones, and Charles Ridlehuber

Core ^Def  An inmost part of something; the essential meaning;

acronym for Carolina Outdoor Recreation Experiences

Team Members:

Captain/Navigator:   Richard Ridlehuber, married, father of 3, chemist, Masters Level cyclist, 2 Adventure Races completed with top 10 finishes.

Passport Carrier:     Charles Ridlehuber, married, Exercise Physiologist at US Naval Hospital, Parris Island Marine Base, Beaufort SC, Cat 2 cyclist and personal coach, first adventure race

Co-Navigator:          Susan Jones, Engineer, Cat 3 cyclist, Scuba Diver, Mountaineer, first adventure race

Support Crew:         Page and Matthew Fletcher: sister and brother-in-law to Charles and Richard, Teachers

Gail Ridlehuber: Charles’ wife and teacher

Part 1 Team Building and Preparations

12:00 Noon Saturday, June 1. Team and support crew arrive at my home as planned for a hearty meal and pre-race overview intended to turn 3 cyclists and their families into a successful adventure racing team. We haven’t been able to go through the 4 stages of team development: 1) forming 2) storming 3) norming and 4) performing, so I rely on terrific family support, our pre race knowledge of each other through cycling and my experience from 2 recent top ten adventure races to take us from “forming” to “performing”.

Around the dining room table I spend 2 hours describing the idea behind the team, the Top 10 reasons we’re a great team! Role and duties of support crew, race strategy, what to expect during each stage of the race, UTM Coordinate plotting, map reading, and a mock equipment check-in. I announce that I slightly detached my right big toe nail in a hike down Table Rock Mtn the previous weekend but it seems to be Okay. Charles and Susan have added running to their cycling training regimens and say they are 100%. Charles suggests a way to paddle the small, lightweight raft and Susan takes a special interest in navigating. Everything is coming together much better than I ever expected!! We load the borrowed Toyota Previa Van and leave for Asheville.

5:00 PM At registration/race check in I discover the red tail-light for my bike is missing, go to a nearby Festival Booth for Liberty Bicycles and buy one from a festival attendee who just happened to be in the right place at the right time. Problem solved. The race assistant tells me a navigation competency test is required. I meet with Norm Greenburg who shows me a topo map and asks me to identify the UTM coordinate for a house and what bearing I should take to travel from point A and Point B. I pass the UTM coordinate test, but have my direction of travel backwards and my compass bearing is 180 degrees off. Norm tells me to brush up on how to take a bearing.

7:30 PM After the Pre race briefing by Norm and Tracyn Thayer of Racing Ahead, we drive to our rooms, looking for a place to eat. An Olive Garden restaurant is near our motel and we all agree to eat there, no matter how long the wait. I brush up on compass skills and how to shoot a bearing during the 20 minute wait.

10:30 PM Our carbo-loaded bodies are finally in bed with alarms and wake up calls scheduled for 4:00 AM.

Sunday Morning, June 2. We drive up to the Waffle House curb at 4:40 AM; three Policemen greet us. One holds the door while I rush in to help my sister, Page, stir cream and sugar into six large cups of coffee. We make our way through the maze of sobering late night party bosses and go back to the van. The Policemen wish us a good night. Our adventure is beginning.

We tank up on our coffee and navigate our way out of Asheville onto highway 19/23 North. The Toyota Previa Van is bottomed out with the weight of Team CORE. The start is somewhere along a mountain dirt road between Barnardsville NC and Mt Mitchell State park.

During a few minutes of spare thinking time during the drive, Susan remarks that she is very impressed with our family and how well brothers and a sister work together.  I thank her and ask about her brothers and sisters and she says she doesn’t have any --- she is an only child! We immediately and unanimously adopt her. Our new sister then asks if there is a bathroom at the start. I say “probably not” and remind her she is carrying the trowel. She fits right in!

We reach the dirt and gravel road leading up the mountain to the start. Its washboard surface and lack of suspension in the van combine with the recently consumed coffee to create some serious vibrations that stimulate bladders and digestive systems. We finally reach the start, van doors fly open and Team and Support Crew dash in all directions looking for a place to be discreet.

Relieved, we all hurriedly set up the map table and lantern. Matthew is elected to get the maps and race instructions.

Part 2 The Race

6:01 AM            Matthew runs up with the instructions and maps, I unroll them, call the team together and read the instructions once for everyone to hear. We begin plotting our course.

6:43 AM            We are finally off with maps, instructions and passport, all perfectly laminated by the Support Crew/Teachers. We walk up the road to Cane River gap and are immediately faced with our first navigation test. There are three converging roads that lead in slightly different directions. I take a compass bearing and we head up the left road, following the ridgeline towards CP1. Another team from our hometown, Greenwood S.C. takes the trail to the right. We never see them again. We climb steadily at an 11 minute/mile pace watching the terrain looking for Flat Spring Knob. At what looks like the right place, I go left off the trail approximately 75 yards to the top and find CP1 and two other teams. Susan is baffled about how I knew where to look. We return to the trail that parallels the ridgeline and proceed to CP2 encountering other teams traveling in the opposite direction.

8:00 AM            I count our next two landmarks, the Butts (Big Butt and Little Butt) and arrive at Point Misery to find CP2 hanging hidden behind a tree about 10 feet off the trail. We get it and move on, making good time by running the flats and downhills. So-far-so-good.

8:46 AM            As we approach CP3 on the Blue Ridge parkway, we see a team in front of us go left along the Mountains to Sea trail that the instructions carefully tell us to follow. We check in at CP3 and Charles and Susan go left following the other team. I check my compass and map and realize that is the wrong way, calling for Charles and Susan to come back. We re-read the map, using our democratic approach to decision-making and opt to go in the opposite direction, crossing the Blue Ridge Parkway. Our decision is confirmed when we see two other teams arrive behind us and make the same, careful decision.

8:46-9:56 AM     We move quickly at a 10-11 minute mile pace, timing ourselves and slowing down at estimated distances to find CP’s 4-7 right beside the trail. Legs are starting to cramp, but we are eating and drinking regularly.

10:08 AM          We plod steadily along and arrive at CP8/TA1. It’s been cool, windy and a little rainy in the clouds at 5000-6000 ft elevation. We’re faced with a fast downhill on the BRP and I put on my jacket and down a can of complimentary Red Bull. As we check out of TA1, Susan yells that she can’t turn her cranks. I check it out and find the chain is jammed between the small cog and chain stay, I quickly pull off the rear wheel, un-jam the chain, replace the wheel and we’re off.

I estimate 12 miles to the road that seems to lead to CP9. We’re in our element now, so we put our heads down and Charles leads at 30+ mph down the foggy parkway, spun out in our low-geared Mtn bikes. At a road that resembles the one we are looking for in distance and elevation I stop, take off my jacket and ask Charles and Susan to read the map with me. We agree that the road we need is down the Parkway a little further and continue. About ½ mile later, we see Team NCOBS coming in the opposite direction. Charles is hammering and I sit up, hesitate, but we keep going. Another ½ mile later we reach the road we think we should follow, re-read the map and estimate the distance to CP9 from the parkway. We travel down a gravel road the anticipated distance, but the terrain and elevation don’t match the map. We stop, admit we’re lost, and look up to see a local resident returning from his morning ride on a cyclo-cross bike. We greet him; explain our situation and he helps by showing us where we are and where we should be. In our frustration, I remind the team that this is an adventure race. Since we know where we’re going, we put the hammer down and climb back out of the hole we’re in and get back to the Elk Mountain Scenic Highway. Total time lost to the navigation error is 30 minutes, so we haven’t lost too much and focus on coming back.

Race instructions tell us to find a telephone pole and memorize its yellow lettered number and report it to the person at CP10. We see the first pole that matches the map and memorize a five-digit number letter combination. Susan is carrying the instructions and remembers that we need a four-digit number! We ride up the road and see another pole that also resembles the map UTM coordinate. We memorize GM72 and continue along the Elk Mountain Scenic Highway descending along suburban streets to CP10.

 12:33 PM         We greet the person at CP10 and Susan tells her GM72. We pucker with anxiety, hoping that we got the right pole and won’t have to ride back up the mountain we just descended. The Race Assistant smiles and tells us we got it right. Whoopee!!! Now just a little further to CP12 and then the transition to paddling. We navigate through some confusing streets, making a couple of 5 minute errors and arrive at a red light on Merrimon Avenue where another race support person gives us a map not issued with the original set and tells us to watch out for some triathletes on the road we’ll be traveling. We cross the road, read the new map, quickly determine our course and start hammering at 25-27 mph, flying along the flat road that parallels the French Broad river. At two red lights we confirm our destination with pedestrians and a moped rider and hammer on. Crossing over the RR tracks at 27 mph, Susan slows, Charles and I sit-up, we re-group and settle back down to a more reasonable 24 mph pace.

1:25 PM            Suddenly we see Gail and Page motioning us into TA2. There is a huge Red Bull tent set up and the support crews look like they’re having the party of the year! We transition quickly, replenish lost fluids, grab the boat and start trotting to the put in. We go to the water’s edge and launch the boat. Our plan is for Charles and I to sit on the front and motor with canoe paddles while Susan sits on the back and steers with the kayak paddle.

In a series of mishaps and bloopers worthy of a prize winning “America’s Funniest Home Video”, the following transpires: Before getting in the boat, Charles and Susan remember my pre-race instruction of “DON’T PEE IN THE BOAT!” I wait downstream from Susan, while Charles stands downstream, laughing. I climb in the soft boat and it immediately collapses around me. I start laughing, poke my head up, and announce our paddling strategy won’t work, so I tell Charles to sit behind me while I sit in front and Susan gets behind Charles. We shove off, and immediately get stuck under an overhanging tree. Susan yells “The paddle is stuck the tree!”. I cannot imagine how a paddle got in the tree, but manage to untangle the paddle and we break free into the mighty waters of the French Broad River. We are pitiful, Charles is bumping me in the back of the head with his paddle, I’m sitting so low that I can’t get a good paddle stroke, and Susan is struggling to keep us straight. I make the decision to pull over on the far side of the river. We get out, turn the boat around to paddle it backwards with me in the back on the nose of the boat, Charles in the middle on his knees, sitting on his pack with the kayak paddle and Susan on the front with a canoe paddle, sitting on her pack watching for rocks and helping me navigate. We quickly develop a routine that is much better and start moving downstream.

2:16 PM            Shortly, and thankfully, we see the take out point at CP13. We pull over and elect to carry the boat the remaining 25 yards to shore, get the passport punched, let the air out of the boat and head off on the course that Susan has selected while reading the maps during our paddling ordeal. There are no teams in sight behind us or in front of us. We head out at a brisk pace with me carrying the boat. We trek up Patton Avenue passing pedestrians and Ashvillians enjoying the Sunday afternoon in their yards. A few cheer us on. Finally we see the large black oblisque marking the finish area and our families. Clapping and cheering erupt and my children and two nieces run with us to the finish area.

2:43 PM            We finish. Tracyn Thayer and assistant take our picture. We are 6^th at 8:43, a little over an hour behind the first place team.

Part 3 Post Race

We spend a peaceful afternoon at the Asheville Mountain Sports Festival, enjoying the activities and catching up on some people watching and even learn some interesting new dance moves. My right big toe starts to bother me and is getting worse by the hour.

Monday PM June 3. My right toe is swollen, red, and throbbing. I have a low-grade fever. Not good. I decide to get some help and visit a podiatrist friend who surgically removes the toenail. With a little care, it will grow back like the others have.

Charles and Susan report they are so sore they can hardly move but agree it was worth it! We all feel a tremendous sense of accomplishment and redeemed ourselves for unsatisfying Assault’s on Mount Mitchell two weeks earlier. Our preparations, teamwork, support, and talent overcame what we lacked in experience. We all want to do it again.